


Strange Love

by dvs



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avenger Loki, Loki Does What He Wants, M/M, Oh steeb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 01:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6932683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dvs/pseuds/dvs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts with a simple taunt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strange Love

_There'll be times_  
_When my crimes_  
_Will seem almost unforgivable_  
_I give in to sin_  
_Because you have to make this life livable_

_[Strange Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QP2O61fPHvo), Depeche Mode_

## ~

It starts with a simple taunt.

Loki just happens to be innocently watching Captain America's pert posterior when Thor steps between brother and Avenger with a valley deep scowl, holding his hammer in a most threatening manner.

“Loki,” Thor says in that ridiculously deep voice of his which is probably impregnating all manner of fertile beast within hearing distance.

Loki grins at him. “Just admiring the scenery.”

“Admire all you wish,” Thor says. “But it would do you well to remember which flowers are for admiring, and which for plucking.”

Loki blinks, digesting that advice. Smiling, he responds with, “You think the Captain a flower? Isn't that a lovely sentiment? Does he know you feel this way?”

“You know well what I mean, Loki.”

Loki nods, very seriously indeed. “What about sniffing this flower? Is that an option? One can surely sniff without causing the distress plucking might cause.”

Thor's expression is, hilariously, thunderous. He still manages a thin smile laced with violent promise. “At your own peril, Brother.”

Loki curls his lip and tries not to mimic Thor, watching his brother stride off all heroic-like to mingle with his Avenger friends who are milling around like farmyard animals in a banquet hall. It's a good thing that both Frigga and Odin are dead and unable to see the desecration of their golden realm. Though...Loki's rather enjoying it, even under the stipulation that he's not to start a war, or an argument. Picking up a drink, he lifts it to his mouth, and rests his eyes on a red, white, and blue flower.

“Not for plucking,” he mutters. “We’ll see about that."

## ~

Why, one might ask, is Loki even anywhere near the Avengers? Well, it appears this is his cosmic penance following some intergalactic plans gone awry, spending time with Earth’s so-called mightiest heroes, who combined are about as interesting as a jar of dirt. Of course, with Loki around, surprising them with his help every time they're making a dismal effort to save their world, the jar of dirt sprouts up some interesting things.

When Loki saves Stark by creating an energy field to safely lower him to the ground as he falls from the sky in a sabotaged suit, the faces of all the Avengers are something to behold. When Loki blasts away some kind of machine beast from Barton's blind side, allowing him to hit his mark, it's Widow who stares at him in surprise. When Loki throws a vehicle between Captain America and a blast from which he is unable to shield himself, it's Wilson who outright remarks, “Is it just me, or is it really weird he’s not trying to kill us?”

“What game are you playing, Brother?” Thor asks later, watching Loki make faces at a singed sleeve. The embroidery will never be the same again, he thinks, the heart breaks.

“I call it 'save the stupid humans in order to show them how stupid they are',” Loki tells Thor, before smiling and asking, “Do you think your Captain America noticed how many times I saved the sorry lives of his friends today?”

Thor snorts, shaking his head. “It will take more than saving lives to gain his favour.”

Loki nods, letting Thor know he's thinking deeply on the subject. “I see what you're saying. You're advising I change tactics if I am to bed your friend. Good advice, Thor. _Finally_ , you're acting like a brother. Any specific tactics in mind?”

Thor looks mortified. “Loki.”

“I'm sure I'll think of something,” Loki says, never letting Thor finish.

## ~

“It's not working,” Widow says, firing her pistol at a group of Hydra henchman, part man and part substance no human should be toying with. “This part-time Avenger act. I don't buy it.”

“Duck!” Loki yells, firing an icy bolt over her head as she falls into a crouch, and jumps right back up to eye the interior of a barely standing building which is turning into a waterfall of concrete and metal. “You doubt my sincerity. I expect nothing less.”

“You're a manipulator. A liar,” Widow says, catching her breath and holstering her pistol as Loki brings down the last attacker. “No shit I doubt your sincerity.”

Loki turns to look at her, brushing debris off his shoulder. “This is not exactly new information. I'm quite aware of your feelings. Is there a particular reason you're bringing them up?”

“Rogers is a good guy,” she says, soft features impressively fierce, her 'too good for you' unspoken but obvious.

“You fear he might fall for my redemption trick,” Loki says with a smile. “Maybe that will teach him that compassion and mercy are a waste.”

Widow's mouth and eyes seem to sharpen somewhat. She steps in close, drawing her pistol slow enough for him to see, before prodding Loki in the chest with the end of the barrel. “You waste his compassion and mercy, I will waste you.”

“Promise,” Loki implores silkily.

Widow's smile is both seductive and poisonous. “Oh, I promise.”

 

## ~

Stark is hosting festivities, and Loki has been watching Steve Rogers a little closer, away from the battlefield. He's aloof, looking out of place, his polite and easy smiles never reaching his eyes. He seems as much a stranger here as Loki. Next to him is his friend Wilson, the bird man, who is all easy smiles and warmth at Steve's side. Across the room, Widow and Barton are talking into each other's ears, whilst casting Loki looks and watching over Steve. How terribly precious, Loki thinks with a yawn.

“I would advise you to keep your thoughts away from Steven,” Thor says, drifting over like an unwanted grey cloud. "Your eyes have clearly lost all sense of decency."

Loki looks over at _Steven_ who is standing there with arms folded across his generous chest as he talks to Stark and Wilson. His profile is _exquisite_. Loki gives him an appreciative look, telling Thor, “Correct me if I'm wrong, but you already have Jane. Being a bit greedy aren't you?”

Thor snorts, looking like an insufferable know-it-all. “Whatever it is you are planning will not come to fruition. Steven is a man of morals and principles. You are...the exact opposite.”

“Ooh,” Loki grimaces. “Well, that was uncalled for.”

“Your ogling him purely to irritate me will achieve nothing,” Thor says.

“Besides irritating you?” Thor looks annoyed, realising he has given something away. Loki smiles and reassures him, “Because that is something I can live with. I mean, this is _mostly_ about irritating you. My lust for your Avenger friend is quite secondary.”

Thor's hand grabs the front of Loki's delicate coat a little too quick for Loki's liking. It's not a tight grip, but it is firm. Thor is both pouting and scowling at Loki, and on the verge of growling too.

“Thor, buddy. We need to talk,” Stark says, walking right past them. He's by the elevator when he calls out to Loki, “Love the Thor shaped jewellery.”

Steve stops right by them and sighs, looking at Thor. “Thor. _Thor._ Is that really necessary?”

“Yes,” Thor says.

“Thor,” Steve says adding a very subtle layer of paternal authority to the command which could easily be mistaken for a request. Thor lets go, glares, and stomps away, while Loki makes a show of covering shock, taking a deep breath and smoothing down his attire. Steve asks him, in a very professional manner, “Are you okay?”

Loki nods, breathing hard. “Atoning for my sins was never going to be easy.”

“You might want to try that without baiting Thor every five seconds,” Steve says, so boringly sensible. “Just a thought.”

“Bait? Not at all. I tease,” Loki says, casting an eye in the direction of Thor and Stark. “It is what brothers do...but then...I suppose technically, we are not brothers.”

When Loki looks back, something about Steve's expression looks tainted by sadness. Either he regrets touching this particular nerve, or he is lamenting something personal. Either way, he's been distracted from his distrust of Loki.

“Not that it matters,” Loki says, making a show of straightening his clothes.

“You're wrong,” Steve says. "The reason you can bait Thor at all? It's _because_ you're his brother. Otherwise, you could do what you wanted, and he wouldn't give a damn. You can keep goading him and he'll keep going for it. You know he reacts because he knows what you're doing. So you have to ask yourself, why bother? What are you really getting out of it? Waiting for him to see what you really are? Guess what, he already knows. He puts up with it because he loves you. _Because_ you're his brother.”

Loki stares at Steve for the longest time, utterly still inside his skin. Then he allows the spread of a smile, because if he doesn't smile, his face might crack and splinter. He starts to clap, very very slowly. “Stirring words, Captain. Quick, bring me a flag. I do declare, I have sudden craving to swear allegiance.”

Steve gives Loki one of his unreadable, but still effectively judgemental looks, before walking off towards his friends. Loki smiles in their direction when they all inevitably look at him. The smile stays plastered on until they leave him standing by himself in a room full of people he doesn't know. In his personal silence he feels that darkness inside him, the one he tries to avoid through mischief and mayhem. It's heavy and inky, dripping into his fingers.

“ _What?_ ” Loki says, aware of a presence behind him. He turns to see Wilson looking a little bored and annoyed.

Wilson holds up his hands, pulling a face. “Nothing at all. My expertise does not extend to Norse gods.”

Loki relaxes a little and says, “Finally. Someone who isn’t a complete idiot.”

Wilson nods. “Thank you. I’m sure where you come from that’s a compliment.”

 

## ~

The Avengers are with the Asgardians on Nornheim, for some universe ending games. Loki has found himself buried under a pile of rubble which includes one Avenger of the Clint Barton variety. Loki can hear the ticking of the Avenger's brain as he plans their way out of this burial site. Loki shifts in closer, flush against Barton's body. The Avenger immediately tenses all over.

“Don't get excited,” Loki says with a roll of the eyes. “You're not my type.”

Loki's plan is not exactly elegant. It involves freezing the dirt above them and firing a few icy blasts to smash through. When Loki is done, he climbs out and grabs Barton's hand, pulling him out smoothly. Loki looks around at their dismal situation, aware that Barton is watching him with curiosity. “We need to head in that direction. I'm fairly certain it's where the Elves have taken the others.”

Barton looks at where Loki's finger is pointed and then starts walking, keeping his bow close. Loki follows silently, watching the landscape for any surprise guests on this trip for two. When his gaze turns to Barton, he finds too squared shoulders, a body too taunt with tension. This is the first time they have worked together without the presence of others. No doubt Barton has things on his mind.

“Why aren't you threatening me?” Loki asks casually. “Your assassin friend is incapable of greeting me without death threats.”

Barton flatly replies, “She's the brains in this operation. Me? I just point and shoot. You step out of line, and someone says shoot? I shoot.”

“And you're more than confident that I'll step out of line,” Loki says with a smile. “Aren't you?”

“You've been inside my head. You tell me.” Loki's response is a nod and a grin. They both understand each other. A little too well perhaps it seems. “You keep playing whatever game you're playing right now. When you fuck up at the end, I'll be waiting.”

Loki gives him a sidelong glance, unable to ignore the overwhelming urge to prod. “Call me mad, but I sense you might still be carrying a grudge.”

Barton moves swift when he has to, and he's turned around and grabbed Loki by the front of his coat in a split second. “You were _in_ my head. You have any idea what it's like, to have someone using you like a fucking glove puppet? Do you, asshole?”

Loki blinks and something he doesn't want to think about floats up to his eyes, pricks them, and heavily sinks back down again, promises of the Chitauri echoing through his mind. Smiling, he nods and answers, “Yes.”

Barton frowns at the answer, but scepticism smooths his brow. He shoves Loki out of his grasp. “Well, I don't give a shit. The only reason you get to play Avenger is because Thor cares about you, and Cap cares about Thor. Me? I can't wait to toss your ass off this team. Yeah, I carry a fucking grudge.”

Barton turns and stomps onwards, impressing Loki by presenting his back to someone he clearly loathes. Loki smooths down his attire and follows. “When you say Cap _cares_ about Thor...what does that mean exactly?”

Loki can see Barton extract a pair of _sun glasses_ from somewhere and put them on, telling Loki, “It means shut your mouth and keep walking.”

 

## ~

Stark says the latest ‘we’re still alive’ celebrations will have to be _low key_ , which means annoying, uncomfortable and not to be trusted. Loki smiles at that and bows his head as if receiving a compliment. The Avengers have aided Thor successfully, Dark Elves pushed back into their dark littler corners for now, the end of one pocket of the universe’s destruction averted. However, they are all now stranded in the shadow of a black mountain, huddled in a clearing surrounded by crooked black trees. Loki can't help but smile at the dark beauty of this place. That and the fact that they are waiting to be picked up and taken home, their portal opening device having been exploded into fine dust.

He seats himself on the ground, leaning against a rock, and decides to watch the Avengers, post mission success. Stark is still in his suit, minus helmet, a good idea since the temperature will only keep dropping for the next few hours. Barton and Widow are standing near what has been established as the exit at one side of the clearing, turned towards each other in quiet conversation, having put themselves on guard without being asked. Not far from them, Thor and Wilson look as though they're having a deep conversation. If Loki knows anything about Thor, it is that he asks his stupidest questions looking his most serious. The thought provokes a twitch to the corner of his mouth and he allows it.

“What's so funny?” Steve asks, taking a seat on a close by rock. He looks ridiculous in that every way he has been tainted and tarnished by battle has only made him look more appealing, from the dirt on his face, to the cut on his lip, right down to the bloody tear at his shoulder.  

“Our good friend, _Vision_ ,” Loki says, “I would have expected him to have enough foresight to arrange our journey home.”

Steve frowns and smiles. “How do you know he didn't? Maybe the reason he came along was _because_ he knew he'd be the one flying back to get help.”

Loki blinks at Steve and then just rolls his eyes in response. Steve smiles at that and looks away. It makes Loki scowl, wanting to ask why Steve is being so amiable. But he becomes distracted by Steve's perfect profile. Everything rises and falls exactly how it should: the bridge of his nose, the curves of his lips and chin, the curves of lashes picked up by the firelight. If this jest with Thor _were_ to bear fruit, it would be no bad thing, Loki thinks.

“You're hurt,” Loki says softly. It seems to surprise Steve, his head jerking in Loki's direction as he frowns. Loki nods towards Steve's shoulder.

Steve looks at the tear in his uniform. He prods the wound and grimaces, telling Loki. “It's not too bad. Should heal by itself.”

“You may want someone to look at it,” Loki says. “This is Nornheim, a realm that knows dark magic. You wouldn't want to wake up under someone's evil sway tomorrow morning, would you?”

Steve has his clever clever eyes on Loki, reading him slow. “Is there a chance that might happen?”

It certainly seems a pleasant prospect, Loki muses, the idea of Steve under his sway, doing exactly as he is told. Loki slowly gets up, leaving Steve having to look up at him, firelight moving into his eyes and making them glow. Loki turns his attention to the torn uniform, inspecting with deft fingers, softly prodding warm skin. The wound itself is clean cut, the blood clotting, the injury healing.

His hand still on Steve's shoulder, he looks down at Steve and says, “Looks like you're in no danger today.”

“Brother, I would speak with you,” Thor says somehow magically having appeared at Loki's side without the sound of even a leaf rustling. Loki's elbow is in a firm grip and before he knows it, he's being dragged away and spun around to to face Thor. “What game is this now?”

“Touch him once above, and then later once below. At least, that's what I'm calling it,” Loki explains. Thor goes sculpture still with rage. Even Loki knows that's bad. He rolls his eyes and says, “I was inspecting your friend's wound. Who knows what magic the Elves are lacing their weapons with these days. You remember that time you ended up clucking like-”

“No one needs to remember that,” Thor says curtly. He leans in threateningly. “ _No one_.”

Thor stalks off like an angry overgrown baby and Loki grins at the dark forest before turning around and fixing his face into a quizzical expression, one that Steve is witness to. Of course, predictably, Steve goes to ask Thor if everything is okay, not Loki. That only makes him fractionally less attractive than moments ago.

 _Fractionally_ , Loki thinks, eyes narrowing in Steve’s direction.

 

## ~

“No offence, Team Edward, but you are not the girl I was hoping to spend my last few breaths with.”

Loki turns away from where he's been looking at the magical seal holding back the might of a crumbling building. He and Stark are in a perfectly spherical space which is allowing Loki to stand, and Stark to sit up against the curve of the seal. But the sphere is slowly shrinking, and the seal will begin to struggle before crumbling completely. Loki can feel it in the way his energy is seeping away moment by moment. The only hope they have before the Avengers find him and Stark is that when the bubble breaks, they will be left in a big enough pocket to hold them until help comes.

“If it's any consolation, I really didn't want to be the girl with whom you spend your last moments,” Loki says, casting an eye over Stark. He doesn't look injured, the helmet by his side, he just looks pale, which is worse than looking injured. Stark blinks heavily, eyes a little unfocused. “Not giving up already are you?”

Stark emits a painful sounding chuckle, arm lifting slightly before he smacks the ground, mouth showing a row of grinning teeth. Loki can’t help but smile himself. “ _What_ is so funny?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Stark says breathlessly. “Being stuck in a magic bubble with a guy who tried to kill me once, for one, I guess. Second, that guy not trying to kill me right now.”

Loki nods slowly. “Yes. It is quite the jest.”

Stark shakes his head. “Seriously. What the hell is this? What are you doing?”

Loki frowns at Stark, moving to stand right over him. “Would you believe me if I said I didn't know?”

“I kind of don't believe anything you say. Ever,” Stark answers.

“A wise approach,” Loki says.

Stark breaks into another round of breathless laughter, one that leaves his eyes bright and glassy. He gives Loki a bare and honest look. “Word of advice. The road to redemption...is lined with one fuck up after the next. It's also the worst time ever to give up drinking.”

“You think I'm trying to redeem myself,” Loki says. “Is it not simpler to believe that I am lying in wait to cause you more chaos?”

“I dunno,” Stark says, “is it?”

Loki flashes a grin, pointing at Stark. “You really are quite smart, however, as Thor will tell you, I cannot be trusted as far as I can be thrown.”

“Yeah, well, I’m guessing Thor can throw pretty far, and I think if you knew what Thor really told me, you'd only try and do the opposite to disprove him,” Stark says, managing to look smug on death's door. A ripple travels through the seal, flashing bright as Loki blinks and slides on a brittle smile. “Even the thought of Thor knowing you inside out, really bugs the shit out of you, doesn't it?”

Loki smiles, nodding. “Indeed. And if you don't cease your prattling, you'll be right next to him in that list of... _bugs_.”

“You know what I really don't get?” Stark asks, a little too limp, a little more breathless, which shouldn't create the odd spike of panic in Loki's chest which it does. “Out of everyone on this team, you get the hots for the boy scout. I did _not_ see that coming.”

Loki is unsure about most what Stark has just said, but on another level he has fully and horrifyingly understood the implication. “Come again?”

“I see you looking at Cap. FYI, his eyes are nowhere near his ass,” Stark says with a snort before beginning to laugh quietly.

“I look at him only because I rarely see you standing behind him, Stark,” Loki says with a sweet smile. Stark stops laughing, and Loki looks away falling into a sulk.

When the Avengers dig them out at the end of the day, Thor embraces Loki, and Loki watches Steve standing over Stark as he's put on a stretcher, looking both worried and relieved. When he turns his head and sees Loki, he swallows, and nods in painfully sincere thanks. There's a reason he prefers to not look in Steve's eyes, Loki thinks. Truth and sincerity taint darker than anything else.

 

## ~

Stark is recovering, by the looks of how fast his mouth his moving. The Avengers and Loki leave Stark and retire to the communal lounging area, Stark remaining in the medical wing of his personal palace. Other than this near death experience, things seem no different than usual. Everyone is taking a moment to lick wounds, down alcohol and watch the television box. Thor is the one Loki watches discreetly, the way he seems to have synchronised with Midgard, using its technology, enjoying its attire. Bedding its women. Well, woman. _If_ she be that. Woman-related thoughts flee from his mind with the sound of fluttering wings as soon as he hears the low murmur of Steve’s voice: gentle, quiet, a soothing balm for some unfortunate.

Loki smiles to himself and turns to see Steve at the end of the room, quietly talking to Stark’s carer, Pepper Potts. At least, that’s what he thinks she might be. He can’t imagine Stark shutting up long enough to woo a woman into any other kind of arrangement. But then again, Thor’s thunderous belch followed by a proud laugh indicates that miracles are possible, and there is no end to what women are willing to forgive in a man. Potts is walking in Loki’s direction. Instead of striking him, she wraps her arms around him and quietly says, “Thank you.”

Loki goes very _very_ still. This display of gratitude and affection is not something he is accustomed to. A slap would have sufficed... in fact, it’s been a while. He lifts his arms slightly, wondering where he should put his hands. She’s wearing a delightfully elegant two-piece suit in white, and it _would_ be a crime to crease it in any way. He looks past her and spots Steve who is watching Loki with a small amused smile. Why...he’s enjoying Loki’s bewilderment. Loki smiles back at him, because he’s rather enjoying Steve’s enjoyment.

The moment, is suddenly pregnant with potential.

Loki looks down at _Pepper_. Placing his hand gently on her shoulder, appreciating the fine quality of fabric. “I have much to atone for. Stark is only one of many on a list, to whom I owe a debt.”

Something drops and breaks behind Loki, and he turns his head to see Thor staring at him, popped corn and ceramic shards scattered around his feet. Romanoff is off to the side, tossing an apple up and down in her hand, looking intrigued. Barton is on the couch watching the television box, smartly not buying the redemption act for even a second. Pepper just stares at him for a moment, nodding. She squeezes his arm and smiles.

“Thank you. Thank you for keeping him safe.”

He doesn’t tell her that keeping Stark safe was mostly about keeping himself from being crushed by a ton of rubble, and Stark just happened to be there with him. He nods humbly, lowering his eyes _just_ a little, and Pepper mimics the move, backing away before she turns to leave, presumably to return to Stark’s side, squeezing Steve’s arm on the way out.

Loki turns to look at the others, noticing that Thor does not look impressed. Loki on the other hand is _very_ impressed. There was a time Thor would have believed every façade, and now, why, he’s the wisest of them all. Loki looks at the mess on the floor and back at Thor, innocently asking, “Is this some kind of Midgardian custom?”

“Jackass,” Barton mutters irritably, whilst Romanoff takes a noisy and large bite out of her blood red apple.

Steve appears at Loki’s side and puts a hand on his shoulder, heavy and warm. Loki looks at him, ready with his humble life-saving face. Steve nods at him, a silent thank you, and pats his shoulder, before going to Thor and offering to help clean up.

A pat on the shoulder, Loki thinks later on, pulling a face as he lies in bed. What is it going to take to get more than a pat? Far _far_ from the shoulder.

 

## ~

The thing is, Loki’s not really looking to be a hero, which means he would rather not take part in any life-threatening heroics, if at all possible. He can only continue to annoy Thor and appreciate Steve’s posterior if he’s alive. Of course, the Avengers spend a lot of time throwing themselves in front of life-threatening situations. This time they’re in some dismal place called Latveria, on a search and rescue mission. Stark is not making as many jests as usual and Steve keeps watching him with worry. It makes Loki want to slap Stark’s helmet off his face.

They storm a castle high up in the mountains, and the very idea of it bores Loki. He thinks the sooner they recover the idiot Midgardians that have been taken, the better, so he puts extra effort into the search part, ignoring the instructions set out by the Avengers. Of course it yields results. He’s using trickery to the best of his ability, caring not for the injuries caused to the Latverian guards. They are the villains of the piece, so surely if a neck is broken here and there, it is done so for the greater good.

He finds the prisoners, a team of four, incapacitated by having been put into stasis chambers. He’s not entirely sure if simply smashing the chambers open will release them, so he alerts Stark, who arrives moments later with Steve.

“We’re going to talk about following orders at some point,” Steve says to Loki, as Stark is making himself busy with opening the chambers.

“Why, Captain,” Loki says smoothly, “I can’t think of anything more pleasant than following your orders.”

Steve blinks at him, opening his mouth slightly. He lets out a little laugh and shakes his head, before turning to Stark. “Tony?”

“Yeah. Any. Second. Now,” Stark says, as each chamber clicks, and the glass doors swing out, the occupants waking with loud gasps. At the same time, Barton announces into their ears, “Doom alert. We need to leave.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Steve says, already helping a confused occupant of the chambers out. “Reed? You need to snap out of it quick. Doom knows we’re here.”

“You shouldn’t have come,” Reed says. “It’s what he wanted.”

“Oh, they know it’s a trap,” Loki supplies with a smile. “They came regardless. It’s all very heroic.”

“Loki,” Steve says. “Not now.”

Steve and Stark usher out the rescued four, Loki falling back on purpose, taking to the shadows. The Avengers may be stupid enough to walk into a trap, but Loki is not stupid enough to fall into it with them. They’re almost out when Doom makes his appearance. He’s rather impressive as it happens, between the green cape and the metal fixtures. He does like the sound of his own voice though, setting out exactly what he’s going to do to the Avengers and the Fantastic Four. _Fantastic Four_ , Loki thinks with a snort, they didn’t seem so fantastic in those glass tubes.

Doom is almost finished with his speech, when Loki decides he’s ready to return either to Stark’s palace or Asgard. Doom holds out his hand, something attached to his wrist, a gauntlet of sorts. Loki lunges from the shadows, shoots out daggers of ice and allows all hell to break loose, with the Avengers battling Doom and his henchman. Somewhere in the chaos, he’s standing a little too close to Steve when Doom fires his weapon and clips Loki’s side, sending him into unconsciousness. When he wakes, he’s alive and well, lying in a narrow bed in Stark’s medical wing. There’s a pain in his side, hot and deep, making him groan against his will

“Loki.” Thor sweeps Loki into an embrace which is more like a death grip, lettng go after a moment, allowing Loki's bones to reassemble inside his body. Taking his hand, Thor says, “You are a fool.”

Loki rolls his eyes, but doesn't pull his hand away. One day he and Thor will start the fight all over, this makes for a nice reprieve. “If that were true, I'd be dead.”

“You almost did die,” Thor says, “coming between Doom and Steven. But...your reckless behaviour saved us all.”

Loki pulls his hand away. “Yes, well...anything to break up the day.”

Thor frowns at him, looking pained. “I wish I could understand you.”

Loki gives him a firm look. “What is there to understand? I can only continually be a thorn in your side if you're alive. Without you, I'm just a madman railing against nothing.”

Thor looks a little saddened, but it doesn't eradicate the ever present hope from his eyes. “Yes. I would have you fighting me, if it was between that and the choice to not have you at all.”

Loki feels a heavy sadness in his chest, but pushes right back down from where it has surfaced, smirking at Thor. “What a splendid job our parents did raising us.”

Thor stares for a second and then laughs, which is the exact moment Steve walks in looking smudged, parts of his uniform torn. Loki blinks in his direction, quietly considering that Steve's uniform should probably just come with portions missing, since the rips only seem to accentuate what's already there. Steve claps a hand on Thor's shoulder, and then smiles at Loki. “How are you doing?”

“Well,” Loki replies, not _at all_ trying to look any more exhausted than he feels, “thank you.”

“It's us who should be thanking you,” Steve says, so sincere, brimming with good and truth and other terribly sweet and sticky stuff. “You did good today. Finding Reed and the others. Saving our lives.”

“Purely by accident, I assure you,” Loki says with a smile.

Steve gives him a firm look. “An accident that almost killed you.”

Loki eyes Steve, that smudge colouring his jaw should be a thumb print. The rip in his uniform should be the result of hard desire. Such a waste.  “I understand your loss would devastate many.” Smiling at Thor, Loki says, “Whereas mine, would devastate one.”

Steve is frowning, digesting that answer, while the mirrors of Thor's eyes immediately crack with hurt. Steve seems to let the meaning sink in and straightens up, telling Loki, “I'm not inclined to believe that.”

When Steve reaches out to squeeze Loki's shoulder gently, Thor does have the most hilariously surprised look on his face.

## ~

It's during an inter-dimensional foray that Loki is reminded of Thor's advice to him that some flowers are for admiring, and not plucking. The memory makes him throw his head back and laugh out loud, the entire universe tilting as he does so. The purple sky tips forward, and Loki sees the yellow ground rise upwards, filled with the tiny hands of soft petals waving in the wind. Loki lies on the ground laughing quietly, tears sliding out of eyes and into his hair.

"Loki," Steve grates out. "You have to...you have to focus."

Loki hears Steve's voice, frowns, and then starts to laugh again. The flowers sound just like Steve. He reaches out and takes a handful, groaning with pleasure as their softness runs through his fingers and sets all his nerves alight.

"Loki, the flowers," Steve says, his words disrupted by the hitches in breath.

"They're so beautiful," Loki remarks, his voice slipping low into his throat. He blinks heavily at the plum sky, wanting desperately to taste the rain. He chuckles quietly to himself. "Too good for my like."

"Loki," Steve whispers.

Loki slowly turns his head to the side and something seems strange. The flowers splinter and take shape. There is a man lying next to him, eyes slightly open, reflecting purple sky. His mouth opens soundlessly, and Loki thinks he hears the release of a pleasured sigh. Loki rolls over, dragging himself across the ground on his elbows until his head is hanging over Steve's. Steve's skin is flushed pink, a sheen of sweat making his face shine. Loki dips his head and breathes Steve in, whispering, "Steven."

Steve opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out, eyes heavily blinking. Loki laughs, feeling delighted by his discovery. "The flowers."

Steve shudders on the ground and Loki realises he's seeing the final bit of fight going out of him. His body relaxes, going completely limp. His eyes roll towards Loki, the pupils inflating, leaving thin rings of blue around them.

Loki tilts his head at Steve, and blinks. _Take, want, divine._ Loki arches a brow. That thought is neither his, nor Steve's. He looks at the flowers around him and Steve shaking with uncontainable excitement, chanting amongst themselves, moaning indecently, climbing across Loki and pushing him towards the object of his desire. Beneath him, Steve is lost in some space of want and desire too, his hand heavily lifting to curl tight in the fabric of Loki's coat.

Loki scowls, throwing himself backwards. He flings out a haphazard dagger of ice, and the flowers all tremble and shriek at the sudden cold. The temperature seems to drop. Loki shoots out more daggers, freezing flowers, and chopping off their stupid little heads. He pushes himself up onto one knee, throwing out a blast of ice, his head clearing with every patch of flowers that freezes and dies. After a while, he is left standing in a graveyard of frozen flowers, Steve curled onto his side by Loki's feet. The sight of devastation seems one worth committing to memory, so he closes his eyes and breathes it in with a smile.

 

## ~

The inter-dimensional beings they encounter are called Rorkes, short and lithe beings with cool grey skin, faces with sharp ridges. They grow their hair long, and it hangs straight from behind the ridge at the top of their foreheads. They are not, Loki thinks, unpleasant on the eyes, their grey, black or white pupils lending them a sharp feline look. It appears they know the magic of portals, just like the one that the Dark Elves used to shoot the Avengers and Loki into a field of flowers that for the locals is nothing but a spirit lifter, but lethal for outsiders unable to break out of the spell of the pleasure pollen.

The Rorkes have dealt with the Elves and an instant alliance is forged between them and Thor, the Rorkes inviting their guests into the underground cave network where they live. Loki doesn't feel that enthusiastic about it until the caves turn out to be as ornate and beautiful as Asgard, with gilded rock pillars, and marble floors, gleaming and warm corridors that disguise a city that is mostly hidden beneath the ground. The team is picked and pulled apart by the tactile Rorkes, the little beings keen on showing off the beauty of their world. Loki ignores all that and asks to speak to their magic smiths on devising a portal to Asgard.

The day quickly turns to night, the Rorkes ushering their guests into the festivities arranged just for them. On entering a syrupy dark enclosure filled with happy Rorkes and music thudding like a heartbeat, Wilson remarks, "I had no idea being an Avenger was going to mean so many parties."

Steve smiles, but otherwise remains quiet, as he has been since the flower field. Barton and Romanoff have been looking a little sheepish too, but not as troubled as Steve. As the night wears on, they all share stories and drinks with the Rorkes. The one Loki is talking to is _very_ friendly, and shamelessly plying Loki with wine. Loki being Loki, takes the odd sip for show, before disposing the rest, nodding to Thor when he catches his brother's eye, that all is well. With the wine in full flow, and the music loud, the Rorkes seem to become happy flowers themselves. Loki's friend is writhing next to him to the sound of a singer in ecstasy, the voice heavy, somehow both male and female. Loki watches and laughs, leaning back as the Rorke lies in his lap, eyes closed as they slowly undulate to the heavy bump-bump-bump of the music, and the guttural throaty wail that bounces off the walls. 

Grinning, Loki looks up from the happy Rorke to see Steve across the room, leaning against a pillar, a small bronze cup in his hand. He has a soft look on his face. Their eyes lock and Loki watches him, the Rorke in his lap still undulating, making pretty shapes with their arms, lost in the moment, one hand moving to cup Loki's cheek. Loki laughs in surprise, holding the hand to his face, still looking at Steve. Steve looks down, mouth opening in a soundless little laugh as he shakes his head. He looks back at Loki with a small smile, turning when Stark touches his arm. Loki sighs and watches them fall into conversation. The Rorke in his lap grabs his chin and shakes sit slightly, and Loki looks down with an amused smile, continuing to play witness to the Rorke's pleasure. After a while though, he closes his eyes and thinks of a coy smile and blue eyes.

 

## ~

They're back on Asgard soon enough, because Stark as says at a briefing that it's been a while since they had a good _shindig._ Everyone names at least one shindig that has taken place in the last four weeks. Stark sighs and looks at Thor. "I really like Asgard."

Thor nods, rather imperiously, and says, "Then it is time we had a feast on Asgard."

"Rich folk." Wilson shakes his head as Steve gives him a look that suggests he's thinking the same thing. After a while. Wilson looks at Thor. "I'm still invited right?"

Thor grins at him happily, which even makes Loki crack a smile. Unfortunately, Thor catches the smile and the contents of his heart are immediately imprinted on his face for Loki to read. So happy from so little. Loki sighs and lets it be.

The feast is a regular food and wine affair, Thor happy to be amongst old and new friends, regaling all with tales from his not exactly distant youth. Loki keeps to the sides, downing the odd cup of wine. Asgard hasn't felt like home in a while. Everyone knows about the things he has done, and they are unlikely to forgive. For Thor's sake, they tolerate. He retreats to a couch from where he can watch the feast, or turn towards skies of Asgard if he gets bored.

"Mind if I join you?" Steve asks not long after Loki has claimed his spot. Loki nods to the empty space. Steve lifts his cup in thanks, and sits down. He drinks down whatever is left in it and sits back with a sigh. "I would be careful if I were you. Asgardian ale is no ordinary drink. It's been known to fell even the biggest Jotuns."

Steve frowns at his empty cup and smiles. He looks at the pitcher on the table before them and reaches for it, refilling the cup as Loki arches his brow. Steve offers Loki a refill, and Loki refuses by covering the top of his cup with his hand.

Up ahead, Thor claps Fandral on the shoulder and lets out a loud laugh. It startles Banner, who steps back and laughs too, holding up a hand to indicate there is no danger of getting angry. Steve smiles. "Thor seems happy."

Loki looks down at the rim of his cup. "Doesn't take much."

"Is that bad?" Steve takes a sip from his cup and Loki's eyes flick to his mouth, sliding back up to his eyes.

"I think I'm rather envious of that particular ability actually," Loki answers thoughtfully. "He's always been so... _easy_. When we were children..."

"What?" Steve asks when Loki doesn't continue.

"I don't wish to bore you," Loki says.

"You won't." Steve smiles, so damnably earnest. "Tell me."

Somehow, Loki ends up telling him about his and Thor's exploits as children, which always ended in some kind of humiliation or injury for them both. It never mattered though, the scrapes and bruises, the rebukes. They both laughed with and at each other. No reprimand from their parents or bloodied lip could have come between them. They were for the longest time, one.

Loki smiles. "Thanks to a prank gone awry, Thor was the colour of gold for many days after. He looked rather brilliant, I must confess.”

Steve frowns and grins at the same time, before letting out a laugh. He has a little too much Asgardian ale in his system, and it's warmed his cheeks and demeanour considerably. “Looks like you both had a lot of fun growing up."

“Oh yes,” Loki says, smiling back, his eyes tracing the loose expression on Steve's flushed face. “Back then, we both made mischief together.”

“What happened?” Steve asks gently. So gently, it makes Loki want to groan as if someone has poked him in the chest.

“As children, we are all equals,” Loki says thoughtfully. “As men, we are not. It turns brothers into foes. That knowledge of somehow having been made the lesser, it breeds anger. Resentment. You forget so easily that once we played together. And now we fight.”

“But you don't,” Steve says, so much compassion on his face that Loki kind of wants to go start fighting right now. “Not anymore.”

“Not yet,” Loki says. “This is simply a reprieve. For now the fates wish us to stand side by side. Tomorrow, that might change.”

Steve looks into his drink and says, “I hope not. It'd be a crying shame.”

"Would it?" Loki watches Steve closely, smiling."And why is that?"

Steve smiles bright and warm, holding up his empty cup. Loki looks at it and smiles, picking up the pitcher and pouring. Loki never planned to ply Steve with drinks, but...well, he's just so damn amiable and loose with all those smiles. It's just an absolute pleasure to help him to his bed, a wall of warm muscle down Loki's side as he drags the hefty soldier to his room. He lowers Steve to his bed carefully, totally thrown off guard when Steve lurches up to squash an uncoordinated kiss against Loki's mouth. It seems to miss the mark for a moment before their lips slowly slot into a perfect fit. Loki's mouth is clamped shut until Steve's lips part invitingly, his head angled, neck soft and giving. Loki tastes sweet Asgardian liquor on Steve's tongue and flinches back, his hand gently holding Steve at bay by his shoulder.

“What was that?” Loki whispers, caught off guard just a little.

Steve is sleepily blinking at Loki, and his hand almost doesn't catch the opening of Loki's jacket when he whispers back, “I see you looking at me.”

“Do you?” Loki asks quietly, smiling. Steve nods slowly. “And it doesn’t bother you?”

Steve seems think it over, frowning. “You’re a complicated guy, I’ll give you that.”

Loki leans in so he can smell the fruity tang of drink and just a touch of clean sweat. “Complicated? I’m a villain, Captain. I have, as one might say...red in my ledger.”

“Clean it,” Steve says quietly. “You owe no one the promise to continue being a villain. There’s good in you. I’ve seen it.”

“What if it’s a façade?” Loki asks.

“It’s a façade worth keeping up,” Steve says. “Especially since it seems to come so naturally.”

Loki grins. “You make it sound so simple.”

Steve's eyes are on Loki's mouth, his body tilting forward. “Do you want to stay? Tonight. You can if you want.”

“It's a tempting offer, but your currently inebriated state is taking the shine off a little. Make the same proposal sober, and wild gods of thunder could not keep me away," Loki promises.

Steve nods slowly. He frowns, looking adorably confused. “I usually can't get drunk.”

Loki smiles and pushes Steve down against plush pillows, lying down next to him. “You're Captain America. I hear the word 'can't' isn't in your vocabulary.”

Steve closes his eyes, laughing quietly. Loki grins, watching him, spreading his fingers out across his sternum, stroking all the way up to his throat and under his chin, fingers finally resting over Steve’s mouth. Steve blinks at him lazily, and it takes everything in Loki’s power to not strip him and devour him whole. He sighs with relief when Steve’s eyes close and he falls asleep. Loki leaves his bedroom, only to walk into a wall of scowling Thor.

Loki grins and says, “Brother. What a lovely surprise to have you following me wherever I go.”

Thor has his ridiculously thick arms folded across his big chest. He nods towards Steven's room. “What just happened?”

“I call it 'let's touch each other in an unseemly fashion, harshly and repeatedly'. Unfortunately, your friend passed out before I could touch him back,” Loki answers simply. “Rude.”

“You tread dangerous waters, Brother,” Thor says, as a way of a warning.  "Steven is not for you."

Loki nods thoughtfully. "Which is why forbidden fruit often tastes the juiciest. Does it not?"

Thor's expression makes most Frost Giants appear quite warm and welcoming, and when he turns on his heel and stomps away, he puts most grumpy toddlers in the shade.

 

## ~

It just so happens that during the next round of ‘how the Avengers will get themselves killed today’ that Loki and Steve end up together, walking through some godforsaken frosty Midgardian forest, Stark and Wilson up in the air, Romanoff and Vision further up in the jet, and Barton on the back of a bird somewhere. Probably. Loki shivers, preferring warmer climes, to any degree of cooler weather.

“Cold?” Steve ask, keeping his voice low, eyes peeled.

“Not really. Just not very keen on this sort of climate,” Loki says quietly. “As odd as it might seem for a Frost Giant.”

“I thought you were half Frost Giant,” Steve says, somehow the frown coming through his tone. Loki is surprised. Not many stop to consider that he not fully Jotun. They concentrate more on the 'giant' part of Frost Giant. “I don’t much care for the cold either, actually.”

Loki grins and looks at him. “Inane chatter doesn’t suit you, Captain. What’s on your mind?”

“Right.” Steve laughs quietly. “I’m sorry if I offended you the other night with my...um, proposal. I haven’t been that drunk in a while.”

“Captain,” Loki says with a roll of his eyes. “Drink does not make us ask things we do not want. It just loosens our tongue.”

Steve stops walking, stopping Loki by putting a hand on his chest. “I’m not apologising for what I asked you. I’m apologising because that probably wasn’t the best way to ask.”

Loki looks down at the hand on his chest. It’s a heavy and grounding weight. It almost makes him feel like something is growing in his chest, all the way to his feet, and helping him take root in Midgardian soil.

Steve withdraws his hand. “I’m sorry if I misinterpreted any-”

Loki lunges forward and covers Steve’s mouth with his, locking their lips together and almost groaning at the pleasure of tasting him, the heat of his mouth exquisite. Steve’s arm comes up around Loki’s back, as Loki pulls him in close, cradling the back of his head, moving his mouth against Steve’s as their tongues beat against each other for a moment. Loki pulls away as abruptly as he initiated the kiss, blinking at Steve.

Steve nods, clearing his throat and licking his lips. “Okay, so...so...okay.”

“I would take you apart with my mouth here, Steven, were we not on heroic business,” Loki says simply. “In case you need more clarity.”

“That's quite clear,” Steve says rather flatly. A loud explosion sounds in the distance, grabbing Steve's attention. Steve reaches out to touch Loki's arm. "Let's pick up this conversation later."

Off he sprints in the direction of danger, leaving a pleased smile across Loki's face.

 

## ~

Later is in Steve’s apartment, away from the Avengers and away from Asgard. Loki doesn’t mean to startle him, but startle him he does when Steve steps into his bedroom and finds Loki by the mirror. Steve has a white towel around his waist, which he’s holding onto at the hip. His skin is pink and damp, his hair dark and wet. Loki is suddenly unsure of his next step. Thor is not here to see this and seethe. There is no entertainment value here. His eating up of the sight of Steve causes no one consternation tonight.

“You going to come closer?” Steve asks, sounding a little unsure, not like the man in the cowl at all.

“Would you like me to?” Loki asks. Steve nods, and Loki takes the few steps across the room to allow him to stand just a few inches from Steve. “Would you like me to touch you?”

Steve nods, smiling a little. “Yes.”

Loki reaches out and presses his fingers against Steve’s chest, watching his own hand stroking downwards. When he reaches the towel, he pulls it open with both hands, letting it drop at Steve’s feet. He is, _of course_ , perfect, as if chiselled to the dictates of true beauty. Loki is struck by the thought that he has never really thought this far when his eyes have wandered over Steve’s form. It’s always been a game, not an aim. And now, Steve is here before him, moving forward and kissing him, offering up an endless expanse of skin, for Loki to touch with his sinful hands.

 

## ~

Steve is playing a Midgardian game which involves using a slim stick to strike a smooth ball across a table, aiming to send other balls into pockets in the sides and corners of the table. It looks incredibly tiresome. However, it requires him to bend forward, and as he does, all of his clothes tighten fractionally. Loki takes a deep breath where he sits, leaning back and watching with the utmost appreciation. He knows the feel of that body. The undulations of Steve’s stomach come to his mind quickly, the sound of his panting, the glisten of his shapely chest, the way the muscles in his legs cord tight, the feel of his strong hands. The heat of his mouth. Loki ends up smiling.

“What,” Thor says, his voice a low and laced with impatience, “are you doing?”

Loki looks to his left to find Thor watching him, looking a little like an overgrown petulant baby. Loki smiles and says, “Exactly what it seems I am doing, Brother.”

“You become more shameless with every passing day,” Thor says flatly.

“Why, Thor. That has to be the nicest thing you’ve said to me in a while.” Loki holds his hand to his chest and smiles. “Thank you.”

“ _Are you insane_?”

Both Loki and Thor look towards the outburst which comes from the mighty Falcon who is standing by the table, stick in hand, and a shocked look on his face. Steve awkwardly looks from Wilson to Loki and Thor, before turning back to Wilson and saying something in hushed tones, cheeks a little pink. Loki turns an eye on Thor, noticing that Thor is watching Steve, frowning, his brain ticking very loudly. Loki takes the opportunity to escape.

“You!” Loki is half way down the hall when Thor calls out, making the walls shake. Loki stops and turns, unable to keep the smile off his face. Thor stomps towards him, jabbing him in the shoulder. “What have you done?”

“What you thought would be impossible for me to do. _Many_ a time,” Loki replies with a nod. Thor’s face goes very serious and very red as he silently waits for Loki to tell him it’s all a jest. Loki nods and says. “Tis no jest, by the way. Oh, don't worry, I did not leave him wanting.”

Thor shakes his head. “ _Everything_ is a jest to you. These people, my friends, who have given you a second home-”

“That I did not ask for,” Loki says sharply.

“And you are luckier for it! For no one opens their arms and homes to those have done deeds such as yours,” Thor growls. “He is my _friend_. He is- _”_

“A good man? Yes, so you have said! _Too_ good for me!” Loki says, manically. “That is the cause of your ire, is it not? That he is _too_ good for the likes of me? I can fight by your side, even die by your side, but I am not to be your equal, ever! What was it you said? Some flowers are for admiring, not picking. Well, here I am, having _picked_ that flower and enjoyed its scent, _numerous_ times. Go to him. See if you can find my taint. See if you can find how I have ruined his precious goodness.”

Someone coughs and clears their throat. Both Loki and Thor turned to see Wilson standing behind Steve who is silent and expressionless.

“Steven,” Thor murmurs quietly.

Loki says nothing, realising that he’s breathing hard, that his face is burning with heat. He locks eyes with Steve who just blinks at him. Wilson puts a hand on Steve’s shoulder. Steve looks back in his direction, and leaves without a word.

Thor turns to look at Loki. “There. You have won your game.”

Loki feels a sudden overwhelming feeling of misery. He closes his eyes for a moment, shaking his head. Turning and walking away, he tells Thor, “No one ever wins in the games you and I play, Thor. You should know that by now.”

 

## ~

That night, the call to assemble goes out and Loki is in the room assigned to him, staring out of the window at Midgardian lights. He’s not quite sure why he’s even here. He should have left hours ago. Maybe he should leave now. He ignores the call. He is not an Avenger. He is just a fool who has allowed boredom to colour his judgement. But Steve walks in to see him standing there scowling at the window, hands fisted at his sides. Loki turns to look at Steve, finding him suited up, minus his cowl.

“You coming?” Steve asks. Loki frowns at him in question. “Standard monster sighting. It’s ripping up Manhattan. Could do with a hand.”

Loki stares at Steve in silence. He can’t find the words. Steve is standing before him, asking him to join the Avengers like it’s any other day. As if nothing is different. As if Loki didn’t hold him up as the prize in a childish battle of wills.

Steve sighs, looking away for a moment, before he looks back at Loki and says, “We can talk about it later. Right now, I need you.”

Loki gives him a single nod, mustering a smile. “Then...you have me.”

Steve’s expression seems a little pained, a smile flickering across his lips. He nods. “We need to go.”

 

## ~

They’ve barely begun to wipe the goo off their clothes and out of their hair when the call from Asgard comes. A Jotun incursion has caused damage and injury, and amongst the hostages taken back to Jotunheim are Thor’s precious warrior friends.

Thor announces his plans for immediate return before turning to Loki and tightly asking, “Will you come?”

Jotunheim is a constant source of misery, and a fine place to release some anger. Loki tells Thor, “Yes.”

Thor seems quietly relieved, and is then taken by complete surprise when Steve says, “So will we.”

“That will not be-”

“Thor,” Steve says firmly, “this avenging thing goes more than one way.”

“He’s right,” Stark says. “You fight exploding goo monsters with us, we come with you to your technologically advanced paradise and...do whatever it is we’re going to do there.”

Asgard is fine for the time they spend there finding out about the damage done. It’s Jotunheim where things take a turn for the worst when Steve acts as decoy to draw away a particularly persistent group of Jotuns. Loki is not exactly following him, rather, he’s laying low in a place that is dangerous for him. He would continue to lay low too, if not for the two Jotuns who manage to pin Steve down, a third wrapping his hand around his throat. Steve begins turning blue, the frost setting in, letting out a soundless gasp and going very still.

Loki spends some time convincing himself that in the grand scheme of things, this matters not. Steve Rogers was only ever a distraction, a key with which he could wind up Thor. But as Loki watches from his hiding place, pages of days he has spent with the Avengers flip through his mind, and Steve has been there to smile at all the so-called good Loki has done. He has never forgiven or forgotten Loki’s actions, but he has allowed Loki to see that his deeds have been witnessed. Somehow that matters. Loki blasts at the Jotuns without announcement, usually the best way, and watches them disperse like a pack of wild animals from a carcass.

They look for him amongst the rocky ruins, Loki keeping himself hidden. He sends out an illusion for the Jotuns, and the three turn toward it, frowning, waiting. Behind them, Steve lies unmoving in the snow, skin tinged blue, eyes closed. Since it feels too dangerous to feel any other kind of anger, he tells himself that no other is to toy with _his_ playthings, and this is precisely what these Jotuns have done. He shoots an icy blast at an ancient pillar, unsteady without whatever it must have supported once. It falls and crushes one Jotun where he stands, the other two lunging out of the way.

Loki rushes from behind one fallen wall, to another, throwing out a dagger with lightning speed. The dagger lodges in the heart of the Jotun closest to him. He falls to his knees, staring at the protruding dagger, the other Jotun looking around, trying to pin down Loki’s location. He swiftly turns towards Steve, his hand extending out into a dagger as he stalks towards the fallen man. Loki runs towards them both without thinking, but before he reaches the Jotun, and the Jotun reaches Steve, a green blur rushes past Loki with an ear-piercing roar, taking the Jotun with it. Loki falls to his knees at Steve’s side, staring in the direction of the Hulk with some shock. After a moment, he reaches out to feel for a pulse.

“Steve. _Steven_.” He can’t find the pulse, Steve’s skin cold to the touch. He leans in close, voice almost trembling as he speaks. “Don’t die, you fool. _”_

There it is, his pulse. Weak and sluggish, but thumping with some innate stubbornness. Loki lets out a shuddering sigh of relief. He sits back and watches the snow fall on Steve’s face, flakes catching on his eyelashes, on the bridge of his nose and the curve of his mouth. It seems a scene worth committing to memory.

“Didn’t know you cared,” Steve murmurs quietly, eyes opening a crack.

“We have much to discuss,” Loki says breathlessly, grunting as he hauls Steve to his feet, snaking one arm around his waist, and pulling Steve’s arm around his shoulders. “Now is not the time.”

He thinks he hears Steve let out a breathless chuckles as he hangs off Loki, dragging his feet heavily to leave behind the exposed ruins, the Hulk roaring into the night somewhere behind them.

 

## ~

Thor announces a feast the moment they arrive back on Asgard. Though there are injuries aplenty, no one is dead, and if that’s not worth drinking to, then what is? Steve doesn’t need the healing chamber, the blue burn fading from his skin all by itself, but he’s ordered to rest, as Asgardian feasts require some amount of stamina. Loki finds himself loitering near the room Steve has been given, between two minds about going inside to talk to him. What is there to talk about really? He has proved both Thor and Steve right about himself. Conversations that focus on his predictability tend to become boring very quickly. He decides to leave, but then slips into the shadows when he sees Thor enter the room.

Loki follows in quiet and hiding. Steve is standing by the balcony, watching the night waving away the remainders of the day. His eyes seem transfixed on the number of stars. He doesn’t even notice Thor until a hand clasps his shoulder, at which he turns and smiles at Thor. The stars, Loki thinks, are nothing in comparison. He withholds the kind of sigh that makes him want to slap himself, and ends up grimacing miserably.

“You’re up,” Thor, king of all things obvious, remarks. “You are well?”

“Yeah. Feeling much better,” Steve says with a nod. He nods towards the sky, looking in awe of the sight. “This never stops being amazing.”

Well, there are ways he could see this sight every morning for the rest of his life, Loki muses, while Thor puffs out his chest as if he himself sewed every single star into the fabric of the universe. After a moment, Thor gives Steve a look that is as subtle as a spear sticking out of a chest.

“Steven, I would speak with you about Loki,” he says, quiet and careful. Loki rolls his eyes, at the once boorish Asgardian now being careful.

“Thor,” Steve says quietly, a kind smile on his face. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“He has made a trophy of you to spite me,” Thor says, looking frustrated. “There is much to discuss, beginning with how I am to ask for your forgiveness.”

Steve is momentarily quiet, eyes back on those inadequate stars. Turning to Thor, he says, “You know, it’s not like Loki’s been very subtle about his...interest in me, and the fact that he likes to get a rise out of you, that’s not really new either. The reason you don't need to apologise for anything is that, the combination of the two...as Tony put it, presented a...unique opportunity.”

Thor stares at him silently for a long _long_ time. “You allowed him to do this as a ploy?”

“I wouldn’t use the word ploy,” Steve says, looking _innocent_ of all things. A grin splits across Loki’s face. “I...made a tactical decision to allow Loki to make up whatever reasons he needed to continue doing the good work he’s done with the Avengers. You know, it’s been exactly two-hundred and seventy days since he killed someone. On _our_ side.”

Thor is nodding and scowling. “And for that he deserves the prize of riding you like a-”

“Thor,” Steve cuts him off, squinting. “It’s not a prize. I...guess…while he was pretending to impress me, maybe he...impressed me.”

Thor points at his head, or knowing him, his hair. “I feel as if I have gone mad.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says. “It’s not a situation I envisioned being a part of.”

“ _Mad_ , Steven,” Thor repeats, “as if witnessing a mule speak. There is not enough ale in Asgard for this.”

“Right,” Steve says, nodding politely, one hand on hip, the other awkwardly rubbing at his chin. He gives Thor a sympathetic look. “Are you okay?”

Thor is quiet, shaking his head. “It is all I want. My brother by my side, fighting for that which is good. I grow weary of seeing him before me as an enemy. What happens when he tires of this game, and decides on another, undoing all the good he has done? Then what?”

“I don’t know,” Steve says. “All I know is, we can’t make his choices for him.”

Thor gives Steve an unimpressed look and says, “No. We can only place our fine captain before him to distract him from doing bad. What is it Natasha calls this?”

“Taking one for the team,” Steve says quietly, covering his eyes with his hand.

“Taking one for the team,” Thor says nodding. “Though I suspect you have taken quite a few by now.”

“If it helps at all,” Steve says, holding up his hands, “this is the single most _worst_ conversation of my life.”

“It does not help, Steven,” Thor says with a nod, “not even slightly. I will see you at the feast, where I will now proceed to get very drunk.”

“Right,” Steve says, nodding as Thor stomps off, shaking his head, looking both annoyed and confused. Loki almost immediately walks out of the shadows, throwing his head back and laughing heartily. So much so, he has to hold a hand to his side. When he stops, Steve is looking at him with an amused smile. “It's not funny, Loki.”

“Oh, but it _is_ ,” Loki says, with a grin, crossing the room to join Steve at the balcony. “Here I was doing good deeds to court your affections, whilst you were using your wiles to extract _more_ good. How deliciously devious of you.”

Steve leans his hip against the balcony, elbow propped on top, as he watches at Loki. “Or maybe I think being an Avenger just looks really good on you.”

“ _Good_. That is something some might say I am incapable of.” Loki takes up a spot opposite Steve, leaning against the balcony too, mimicking Steve’s stance. Steve shrugs. Loki arches a brow and asks, “Isn’t this where you suggest I prove everyone wrong?”

“No,” Steve says with a shake of his head. “This is where _you_ decide if you want to prove everyone wrong.”

“And if I prove them right?” Loki asks.

Steve’s mouth tilts with some kind of displeasure. “It's problematic.”

Loki narrows his eyes at Steve, looking him up and down. “That to me sounds like an ultimatum. You do understand there is much finer and firmer flesh in this universe than yours, don’t you?”

Steve says nothing, which is slightly infuriating. He just looks at Loki, the corner of his mouth turning up a little. “I understand that despite whatever there is out there...here you are.”

Loki lets out a laugh, shaking his head and pushing away from the balcony. Steve pushes away too, reaching for Loki’s arm and pulling him back, stepping into his space and pressing his lips to Loki’s. The skin of his face feels hot against Loki’s cheek. Steve’s whole body radiates an unnatural warmth that seems to light a slow fire in Loki’s body.

He finds his own words ridiculous even as he says them, for the truth is the complete opposite. “You play with fire, Steven.”

“It’s on me if I get burned,” Steve says quietly.

 _Idiot_ , Loki thinks with a fierceness that surprises him. He shakes his head at Steve. “Fool.”

Steve perhaps takes that as a rejection, slowly moving back out of Loki’s space, but Loki reaches for him as fast as a flame jumping from lit paper to dry, his hands fisting in the front of Steve’s jacket, as he crushes his mouth to Steve's, before guiding him towards the bed. They arrive late to the feast, and as neat as Steve looks, there is a telling flush to his face, and a smile on Loki’s that is all too satisfied. Steve seeks out Wilson and they go off to whisper about the things they whisper about when they think no one is watching. Thor catches sight of Loki and stills mid conversation with Romanoff. He excuses himself and heads over to Loki, picking two cups of wine on the way. When he reaches Loki, he hands him one. Loki smiles, sipping and waiting.

"It need not be said, but with you 'tis safer to say it all the same," Thor says, smiling and nodding at someone who raises a cup at him from the other side of the hall. "If any harm comes to Steven, I will break your legs."

Loki raises his cup. "But of course."

Thor turns to Loki then, and says, "And should he do you harm, however unlikely that might seem, I will think nothing of breaking his. Brother."

Loki stares at Thor, swallowing and keeping his mouth clamped against the ugly bloom of... _something_ in his chest. He pushes a shaky smile to his face and raises his cup. Thor's jaw clenches, and he nods tightly, turning and walking away without looking. Loki feels the mask of indifference slip for a frightening moment. He downs his whole drink, Barton sidling up next to him eating grapes out of the palm of his hand.

"You know, as much as I love Cap, I kinda really want to see Thor break your legs," he says casually. "Does that make me a bad person?"

Loki's face breaks into a grin. "I rather think it makes you the best kind of person there is, Barton."

Barton gives him an unimpressed look and tosses him a grape before moving away. Loki looks at the grape, rolling it between his fingers before he puts it in his mouth, applying pressure until it pops sweet across his tongue, relishing for the moment simple pleasures.

For the moment.

~ the end ~

**Author's Note:**

> Give me some [straaaaange love](http://dvswraatins.tumblr.com/post/144819707309/strange-love-lokisteve-thor-loki).


End file.
